Human Men and Directions do not Mix
by Horsegirl01
Summary: Humans can be stubborn when it comes to taking (and giving) directions, and sometimes the consequences can prove to be too harsh to bear.


Summary: Humans can be stubborn when it comes to taking (and giving) directions, and sometimes the consequences can prove to be too harsh to bear.

Written for the August Teitho contest. Please review, but do not flame. We all have different ideas, which is what makes this website so amazing! Legolas angst ahead…be warned! :)

A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my stories, comment on them, and favorite them. You all inspire me so much! :)

Rating: K+ for some angst, injuries, emotional/family situations and scary situations.

* * *

 **Human Men and Directions do not Mix**

"We are supposed to go to the west, not the east," the thin figure argued adamantly, his blonde hair and pointed ears distinguishing him as a member of the fair race of elves. His green tunic and brown leggings and boots betrayed his wood elf lineage. Currently, his fair features were flushed with frustration as he argued with the other figure that was standing a slight distance away, his body facing in the direction of a dark path in the woods that led to the east.

" _I_ am going east…for that is certainly the direction Ada told us to go in. _You_ may go whichever direction you wish to!" The dark-haired young man scowled humorlessly at his supposed best friend, upset that the normally easy-going elf was being so stubborn in this matter and making them waste valuable time in arguing.

The blonde elf's shoulders slumped slightly, though not detracting in any way from the easy gracefulness belonging to his race, as he realized he was more than likely not going to win this argument. The young wood elf's exceptional sense of direction and intuition when it came to nature was telling him in no uncertain terms that his friend was wrong, but he could not simply leave the human to go off on his own, especially in a direction that most assuredly would hold some type of danger for them. He tried once more, his hope dwindling at the stubborn look on his friend's face. "Think about this, Estel," he pleaded. "Hir Elrond said that we must make sure to take the correct path or we would risk meeting up with danger. I am certain he said to go to the west. Furthermore, I sense that it is the right direction as well, the one where we will find the herbs he sent us for."

The two figures were very young, even the immortal wood elf. The human boy had recently changed places with his friend, for the elves aged slower compared to humans, and though the elf had been the oldest for most of the human boy's life, the boy had now passed him up in comparative age, taking on the new and rather exciting role of oldest and guardian of the young elf. It irked the teenager to extremes for someone now 'younger' than him to be telling him what to do, and was part of the reason the youth was being so persistent in the direction they needed to take. That…and the fact that the boy was positive his adoptive father, Lord Elrond of Imladris, had told them to go east. His eyes suddenly lit on something in the near distance down the eastward path, and he smiled confidently, knowing that this discovery would win the argument for him.

"Ah…but Ada also said that we would have to go past a group of old pine trees, did he not? Take a look, mellon nin, and weep, for there are the pines he spoke of—down the _eastern_ path!" The boy, Estel, was unable to keep a look of smugness from his face as he stressed the word.

The young elf, none other than the only prince of Mirkwood, Legolas, paled as his eyes sought out the group of pines Estel had pointed out. Hir Elrond _had_ said to go past the group of pines…perhaps he had merely stated the wrong direction when telling them? Or perhaps…just perhaps…Legolas _was_ getting the directions confused… He had been so certain though, and he was sure the air felt more pure…more safe… as the breeze flowed over him from the westward path where he was standing at the entrance. He turned and looked down his own path of choice, hoping to see a cluster of pine trees further down this path as well. He frowned when he was unable to spot any pines at all along the western path. Instead, he saw a happy little cluster of medium-sized oak trees about halfway down the clearing, and though valiant in their own right, they could not possibly be mistaken for the tall pines of the forest.

A discouraged light flickered through the young elf's eyes, though he quickly forced a stoic expression onto his face as he turned to face his friend, knowing he would certainly be unable to convince the human boy on the folly of taking this path any longer. He bowed his head in acquiescence, shifting his quiver to a more comfortable position as he walked over to join his friend, his features carefully masked against the displeasure he was feeling.

Estel looked at his friend, unable to keep from feeling a little proud at having won the argument but easily able to detect his friend's 'false' expression, the one he reserved for when he wanted to hide his true feelings from others. Estel's conscience nudged at him as he realized his friend was unhappy at his decision and, for the barest of moments, he wondered if he should perhaps listen to the invaluable senses of the wood elves and follow his friend instead.

He stiffened his shoulders then as he reminded himself that _he_ was the oldest now, not Legolas! Legolas was just a young elf; he did not know _everything_. He would prove to him his skills in the forest had now surpassed those of his friend, and he would gain his father's praise when they returned with the herbs he had sent them out to find. _He_ would gain the praise—not Legolas—since the wood elf wanted to take the wrong path! A slight smirk of condescension on his normally happy-go-lucky face, the boy turned without a word and led the way down the path, feeling overly-confident in the fact that _he_ was now the oldest and Legolas had to listen to him.

In truth, the young wood elf was perfectly capable of refusing Estel's decision, but he knew from past experience how stubborn the human was. Even if he decided to take the western path—the one he knew in his heart was the right path—his friend would choose the eastern one out of sheer stubbornness. Whatever awaited them on that path, he could not allow Estel to face it alone.

As Legolas reluctantly followed his friend, the feeling of danger began to grow stronger the further down the eastern path they traveled. Instead of trying to sway Estel's mind—a feat which he knew would accomplish nothing at this point—Legolas spent the time they were walking to subtly check his arrows and bow, making sure all was in order for any potential battle they might be faced with. He might be young, but he had lived long enough to know that the evil and dangers of the world did not disappear from mere wishing alone. Besides, Elrond had warned them to avoid the other trail because of imminent danger—the same trail that the stubborn human had insisted that they travel.

Despite the fact that Estel thought Legolas was the youngest one and supposed to follow the human's bidding, Legolas had a strange feeling that Lord Elrond would think he had failed in his mission, since the wood elves were rumored to have an impeccable sense of direction no matter what age they were. Sighing heavily, the young elf followed his friend, wondering what trouble they would run into this time. After a long while of silence, Legolas noticed something odd about his friend. "Estel…" he began, hesitating for a moment as his mind tried to confirm what he thought his eyes were seeing. "Are you 'strutting?'"

Estel turned back to him, pride showing plainly in his expression. "Can you blame me, my friend? I have finally proven myself to be more knowledgeable in woodlore than the wood elves. Imagine what Elladan and Elrohir will say when they find out a wood elf wanted to take the wrong path!" The human boy chortled gleefully, unable to resist teasing the good-natured elf.

Legolas grimaced. He was still sure he was right, but perhaps it was not so bad to let Estel enjoy his moment of success—at least until they were completely demolished by whatever danger they were walking into. The light-hearted elfling managed a mock scowl, one he had used many times in the two friends' teasing moments. "Twas just the smell of the filthy human that distracted me for a moment," he insisted, pretending to agree that Estel was right in choosing his path.

"Ha!" said Estel, his face breaking out into a large grin. "So you admit it! I knew you were wrong!" He completely ignored the 'filthy human' comment, choosing instead to rub Legolas' choice of directions in his face. Before Legolas could even open his mouth to respond in kind, several large creatures sprang upon them from the copse of trees, crouching down in front of the two friends and growling fiercely.

Estel blanched, and Legolas merely sighed in resignation and had an arrow placed to his bow before Estel could react. He fired the arrow off, hitting one of the creatures in the head and felling him instantly. Looking around to assess his surroundings as he had been taught numerous times by his tutors, he saw that there were four other of the creatures, large, grey, shaggy wargs that he knew were wiser than wolf packs had proven to be, cunning in their attacks and more successful. Indeed, Legolas had barely managed to notch another arrow to his bow—and his movements were too swift to follow with the naked eye—when one of the wargs had managed to circle around to his back. Instantly spotting him as a more immediate threat, three of the creatures targeted Legolas while the other warg attempted to cut off Estel from his friend.

When the young human saw the huge creatures target his friend, he recovered from his initial shock and sprang into action with a ferocious snarl as he pulled out his blade with a swift hiss of air and stabbed at the warg in front of him, only missing him by a hairbreadth as the creature twisted at the last moment and dodged the shining blade. The warg circled back with a growl and lunged at Estel's leg, but he quickly plunged the sword in front of his leg and there was a harsh grating sound as long, sharp teeth met steel. Roaring angrily, Estel's warg sprang back and began to warily circle his prey, waiting for a perfect opportunity to attack. As Estel circled in sync with the beast, he dared a quick glance in the direction of his friend, terrified at what he might find.

Legolas was pitifully outnumbered, and the teenage human had only one thought on his mind—to aid his friend. As he surveyed the other side of the clearing where the wood elf was attempting to fight off the creatures, he saw that Legolas had managed to kill one more of the beasts with an arrow before they drew too close to draw upon and he had been forced to resort to his twin knives. Estel flinched to see this, for though the young wood elf was skilled at the knives—as he was at all branches of weaponry—he yet lacked the assurance and finesse that would aid him so well in the future. The bow was by far his main strength, and with two large creatures of Mordor snapping at his neck the young prince was severely disadvantaged.

As Estel continued to cautiously circle his own beast he kept a corner of his eye on the fearsome scene beside him. Legolas finally plunged forward and managed a successful swipe at one of the wargs, slicing it across the chest and sending it backwards with a scream of pain and rage. His movement left his midsection wide open for attack, however, and the remaining warg on his feet was swift to take advantage of that fact, springing forward so quickly that the watching Estel did not even have a chance to shout a warning before the warg bit into Legolas' tender side with an eerie gnashing sound and a light crunch of bone, causing the surprised wood elf to cry out in pain and sending him immediately to his knees as he barely managed to turn and stab one of his knives into the warg's shoulder in a desperate effort to make the warg release his grip.

Though the warg snarled in pain, he refused to loosen his hold on the tasty dinner he had finally caught, and the terrified Estel knew he was running out of time as he turned in one movement, sprang at the confused warg in front of him that was sniffing anxiously at the smell of fresh blood in the air, and sliced through the dark creature's neck with one quick swing of his blade, sending the lifeless head flying. He immediately turned and nearly flung himself onto the creature so carelessly holding his best friend's life in his jaws, his rage giving him an accurate landing and a steady hand as he stabbed his sword through the thick neck, ending his miserable life.

Despite the lack of breath flowing in the huge body, the creature maintained a permanent grip on Legolas' side, and when he fell to the ground in his last death throes, he pulled the poor elf down with him, sharp teeth yanking at the bleeding side and ribs in the process and sending another reluctant cry of pain from the tortured elf.

Estel flinched at his friend's cry of pain, His own creature had managed to claw his arm in the midst of the short battle, but he knew it was nothing compared to the trauma his friend must be enduring. He managed to pull the heavy body off his nearly unconscious friend, forced to leave the teeth still attached for now, then squatted down at Legolas' head, smoothing unruly blonde hair back and speaking soothingly to him in the Sindarin tongue, hoping to calm the pained youth.

"T-told you…" gasped the pain-ridden Legolas who was barely grasping onto consciousness, "that we should…t-take…the west path…" He flashed a small grin at his friend to take the sting out of his words, causing Estel's eyes to widen in shock. The young human let out a snort of laughter at his friend's unexpected teasing, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on Legolas' pale brow.

"Aaah, mellon-nin! I am so, so sorry," he responded then as a look of guilt flashed across his face. "I was wrong, and it is my fault we are in this mess."

Legolas reached a shaky hand up and clasped Estel's blood-splattered sleeve. "N-nay…" he breathed. "None of that…now…my friend… The herbs are probably further down this path. You know…we have bad luck…tis only that now…not your mistake…" Legolas hand slipped back down as blackness began to slowly claim his attention, the riveting waves of pain emanating from his side snatching away the last remnants of his coherence.

"Hush now," Estel whispered as he saw his friend drifting away. "We will speak of this later…for now…sleep, my friend, sleep and heal."

Once he had made sure his friend was truly unconscious, Estel forcefully pried the dead warg's teeth away from his friend's side by jamming the hilt of his boot knife into the locked jaws and twisting them loose. Pushing the body away with a look of disgust, the young human then set about cleaning and treating the nasty holes and tears caused from the sharp teeth of the warg, hissing when he found two ribs that had been broken from the force of the bite. He carefully set the ribs, then rubbed an athelas paste on the bruising and cuts. 'Some of these could use stitches,' he thought grimly, 'but I dare not close up the wounds or infection might set in…' Instead, he chose to bind both the broken ribs and still-bleeding cuts tightly with pieces torn off from his own cloak, hoping they would be tight enough to stop the bleeding, yet loose enough to prevent infection.

Afterwards, the tired boy treated his own cuts on his arm, then lay down beside his friend to rest for a while. He was so weary that his eyes soon closed of their own accord and he was unwillingly lost to the world of dreams.

He awoke dazed out of a deep slumber by a hand urgently shaking his shoulder. "Estel…Estel…something approaches!"

Estel darted up into a sitting position, immediately grabbing for his sword that was normally beside him, panicking when his fingers failed to find it. He patted the ground frantically, then looked over at Legolas, who was watching him with pain-filled but steady, worried eyes. Legolas pointed silently to the tree across the clearing, where Estel had laid both their weapons earlier in his haste to treat his friend's wounds, apparently forgetting to retrieve them.

The human boy looked sheepishly at his friend as he climbed clumsily to his feet to retrieve their weapons, happy to see Legolas awake and able to talk. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized dusk and night had passed already, and the sun was rising in the far horizon, casting morning shadows over the ground. Had he really slept that long? He mentally kicked himself as he swiftly retrieved the weapons, keeping his own sword in hand and returning to his still-sitting friend to hand him his bow, quiver, and knives.

Legolas quickly took his weapons in hand, gratitude on his fair features. Estel frowned to see his friend's hands shaking though, and he wondered how the young elf was faring from his injuries. He noted that Legolas had managed to fasten his tunic back up and put his cloak on while Estel must have been sleeping, and he had pulled it around the torn side of his tunic, carefully leaving no evidence of their adventure other than his paler-than-normal features and the slight trembling Estel had noticed. He had no time to assess him further though, because the sound of pounding hoof beats brought his eyes to the other side of the clearing, where a group of horses had just appeared from the trail, dust flying as their owners pulled them to a harsh stop, the one in the forefront quickly dismounting and heading straight for the two stunned friends.

Legolas slipped into a standing position so swiftly that Estel thought surely he must be feeling better, for there was no sign of stiffness in the graceful movement. Before his mind could focus beyond anything other than the fact that the figure approaching them looked dishearteningly familiar, the blonde youth had placed his mouth a hairbreadth from his friend's ear. "Do not let them know we were hurt," he hissed too quietly for the other figure to hear. "They will kill us for sure…"

Estel pursed his lips together as he realized his friend was correct. He managed a swift prayer of thanks that he had pulled his own cloak on before falling asleep and it was now draped over his injured arm, hiding the tears in it as well. Then, the two youths were forced to face their doom as the lone figure stopped only a foot in front of them both, green eyes carefully assessing the two youths before him, a look of deepening anger on his own fair features.

"G-good morrow, Hir Glorfindel," gulped the nervous Estel, while Legolas merely bowed his head in respect and greeting, keeping it lowered as though he was too frightened to face the piercing eyes of the elder.

"You were both due back last evening," the revered Balrog slayer said slowly as he looked around the clearing where the bodies of the dead wargs were still sprawled. "I see that not only did you manage to find trouble for yourselves—as usual—but you also apparently chose to take the wrong path, deliberately against what Lord Elrond instructed…" The green eyes returned to land directly on the terrified human boy standing in front of him.

Estel blanched, his guilt increasing as he realized he had led them both into this peril needlessly. He turned eyes full of apology to his friend beside him, but Legolas had already raised his own steady gaze up to meet the furious one of the elder elf Lord. "Forgive us, my Lord," he said softly. "We became confused at the juncture of the paths, and mistakenly thought the eastern path held the herbs."

The angry green eyes darted to the soulful blue ones of the young elf. "I do not believe you, Thranduilion!" he snapped angrily. "No wood elf would get that confused about directions! I have no choice but to believe you both deliberately chose the wrong path."

Estel jerked his head back to face the other elf after recovering from the shock of his friend so swiftly taking on the blame for his mistake. He could not let the elder elf think badly of his poor friend, and he opened his mouth to tell him the truth when a light tug on his tunic sleeve stilled his words before they started. Instead, the melodic voice of the elfling answered back. "I fear it is the truth, my Lord," he said in a voice filled with sorrow and shame. "We became confused over the correct path, especially when the copse of pine trees was located on the eastern path. We both thought Lord Elrond meant for us to travel past the pines."

Glorfindel gazed at the young elf for a moment, carefully considering his words. He had been there when Elrond gave his instructions, and he did remember his old friend specifying the path would lead past a group of pines. His expression softened a little as he watched the elfling in front of him. He held a soft spot in his heart for this sweet young elf, and he had not been looking forward to the idea of punishing either him or Estel. He sighed then, realizing he dared not take a chance on wrongfully punishing the young ones until the matter was fully decided, though he knew not how a wood elf—even an elfling—of Mirkwood could confuse east from the west. He loosened his firm stance, letting the anger slip from his face and replacing it with a look of relief.

"We will let Elrond decide the matter when we return. He will remember the exact instructions he gave you. In the meantime, we should burn the bodies of these wargs." He placed a hand on each of the youth's shoulders. "Are you both well?" he inquired, the piercing eyes back as he assessed both of the young ones.

Estel and Legolas exchanged an unreadable glance. Estel duly noted the warning glint in his friend's familiar blue eyes, and though he hesitated for the briefest of minutes—unsure if hiding injuries like his friend had obtained was the wisest course of action—he finally acquiesced and answered the elf Lord. "We are well, Hir Nin." Estel could not betray his friend's wishes in such a way, especially when it was due to his own stubbornness that they had gotten hurt in the first place. Hopefully, the treatment he had given his friend would be enough to successfully heal the wounds gained from the warg's sharp teeth.

Glorfindel watched them both for a moment, uncertain if he was being told the truth or not. Sliding his gaze up and down both of the young people, he was unable to detect anything seriously amiss, so he finally let the matter drop, squeezing the two shoulders kindly, then turning to call out orders to his patrol.

Not much later found the group mounted on horseback and heading back to Imladris, only a few hours away on foot and less on horseback. The elder blonde Lord had insisted that the each of the youths ride with an adult. He did not quite trust the two of them together on horseback, and he was not completely convinced that they were both faring well from the warg battle. He had Estel mount behind his second in command, a stern but kind elf with brown hair and a talkative nature, ensuring that the young human would have plenty to occupy his mind on the return trip.

Legolas, he kept for himself, having him ride behind him on his own horse, Asfaloth. The elfling was pale, too pale, and he thought it would do the child good to converse with him for a while. Perhaps he could glean more of the truth from the honest-natured young one at the same time. In this, he was thoroughly disappointed, however, for the young wood elf was unusually quiet, even for him, only responding with minimal words and never instigating conversation. By the time they arrived, the elder Noldor elf was beginning to suspect something _was_ seriously amiss with the youth; whether it was sickness of body or spirit remained to be seen.

* * *

Elrond paced back and forth in front of the wooden desk in his large office, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Anger was splayed liberally over his fair, dark features, and his eyes held none of the usual gentleness that the renowned healer was known for. The two youths were standing in front of him with dread on their faces and fear in their eyes. Glorfindel stood by the door, curious to see how this entire matter would play out and making sure the possible escape route was blocked.

" _West_ , I said—go _west_ , not _east_! I cannot comprehend how anyone could possibly misunderstand such clear instructions! And there were _two_ of you who heard me—one of which I might add is supposed to be an astute wood elf of the Mirkwood Realm, incapable of getting lost in the woods—which makes it even more unlikely that you could _both_ have forgotten my perfectly clear instructions!" Elrond stopped here and turned a dark glare on the two downtrodden youths, both of which had their eyes glued firmly to the floor, afraid to meet the elder elf's fierce gaze.

"Estel?" Elrond warned after a moment of silence.

Estel lifted a shame-filled look to his adopted father. "I am sorry, Ada," he said softly. "I truly thought you said to take the east path." Elrond looked at him for a long moment, but was unable to detect anything other than honesty in the boy's eyes. He turned his all-seeing eyes to the young elf standing beside Estel.

"And you, my young wood elf? Did you mishear me as well?" His voice was cold, filled with anger still.

Legolas dropped to one knee, continuing to bow his head and keep his eyes hidden. "Forgive me, my Lord," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, but one which elvish ears could easily hear. "I thought you meant us to travel past the copse of pines, and the pines were on the eastern path." The young elf was still unwilling to disclose Estel's stubbornness in this matter, not wishing to bring further punishment on his friend. The honest elfling could not lie, however, and this was as much information as he could disclose without being dishonest, so he remained silent after that.

Elrond grew silent after Legolas' words as he tried to recall exactly what he had told the two rather bedraggled youths in front of him. He, too, remembered specifically mentioning pine trees, though, and his anger began to deflate slowly in much the same manner as Glorfindel's had.

"Was there no group of pines on the western path?" He asked cautiously, the coldness in his voice gone.

Legolas finally lifted clear, blue eyes up to meet the inquiring ones of the powerful elf Lord. "Nay, my Lord," he said with assurance. "There was a group of small oaks, but no pine trees were present."

Elrond's features softened as he looked into the soulful, honest blue eyes. He strongly felt that there was more going on here than he was being told, for he saw hurt hidden deep within the young elf's eyes. It did appear as though there had not been deliberant disobedience, however– just a simple misunderstanding, and what might be wrong directions on his part. Seeing the worried look on Estel's face, he decided to take pity on the two young ones, who were sure to be tired after battling several wargs the evening before.

"It appears that this was just a matter of misunderstanding," he said gently. "I was also at fault, it seems, for not having the keen wood elves' recall when it comes to the various trees of the forest." Legolas smiled a grateful smile at the elder Lord, causing Elrond's mouth to lift up at the corners as well. "Go rest, young ones. I expect to see you both at dinner this evening."

His smile widened when identical looks of relief flashed across two young faces. He turned away to gaze out the window as he pondered the matter further in his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, keen vision spied Estel give Legolas a helping hand up as the two exchanged a secret glance—a glance that sent a shiver of foreboding down the elder elf's spine as he wondered just when the graceful, tree-climbing wood elf had started accepting help to rise from his knees on the floor, a supposedly simple feat. The Legolas he remembered was quite prideful and unwilling to except help even when needed, but perhaps the two friends were just having a special bonding moment. He could not help but smile again when he saw how swift they both were to leave the room, bowing quickly to Glorfindel whom had stepped nimbly aside and almost running out the door, letting it drift slowly closed behind them as the sound of swiftly-moving footsteps could be heard dwindling away in the distance.

Glorfindel came to stand beside his friend, a thoughtful look on his face. Elrond turned to face him. "Was it just my imagination, mellon nin?" he asked then, curiosity in his eyes.

Glorfindel shook his head. "Nay, I saw it as well. I have been suspicious of this matter since I found the two young ones. I do not think we are being told the entire truth in this matter."

Elrond sighed. Worry once more replacing the curiosity in his eyes. "Nor do I," he admitted, "yet I did not find any trace of lies in either of their eyes."

Glorfindel hesitated. "When I questioned them in the clearing after finding them, it seemed as though Estel was going to say something, but Legolas stepped in and answered first. Estel looked a little surprised, I noticed, then he managed to hide it."

Elrond frowned. "I do not like this at all. How did they appear to you? Were they in good health?"

"So far as I could see," responded the blonde elf, placing his hands behind his back as he gazed out the window at the beauty of the afternoon sun shining on the many waterfalls in the distance.

"I do not think I would get anywhere trying to force either of them to tell me what has really happened. We must simply wait and see. Time will tell all."

"Legolas loves the west," the blonde Balrog slayer said softly, his eyes filled with soft memory. "He _always_ chooses taking a western route over any other, if he has a choice."

"We cannot say what has happened until we hear the evidence," Elrond said firmly, unwillingly to risk an unfair guess. "Let us wait and see what happens on the morrow." He joined his friend then in watching the beautiful view of the valley as talk changed to more amiable subjects.

Dinner later was a quiet affair. The two youths were prompt and dressed in fresh clothing, their hair damp from bathing. No matter how hard Elrond looked or how subtly he pressed for more information, he could not see anything wrong beyond weariness and the too-pale features of the young wood elf. Nor would either of them disclose any information beyond what they had already confessed to.

By the time dinner had ended and the two youths had excused themselves to retire to bed, pleading weariness from their adventure—after Legolas had quietly offered, and been denied, to go back and look for the required herbs on the correct path—Elrond was left with a sense of unfulfillment and a nagging feeling of worry.

* * *

The next morning, everyone presented themselves at the breakfast table on time except for Legolas. "Where is our young guest?" Elrond inquired of Estel.

"I do not know, Ada," the young human said worriedly. "He said he would see me at breakfast when we parted last night."

Elrond frowned, the worry returning with full force. He stood abruptly. "I will go and see if he still plans on joining us."

"Nay!" Estel jumped up, panic flashing through his eyes before he made an obvious effort to cover it up. "I will go, Adar. You should sit and enjoy the meal. We will join you shortly."

Elrond exchanged a grim glance with Glorfindel. "NO…I wish to speak with the elfling in any case, so _I_ will join you later."

Estel sat back down reluctantly, his movements so slow that Elrond feared the youth would rethink and attempt to race him to Legolas' room. The human boy knew better than to question his father when things were said in that tone of voice, however, and he prayed that his friend would understand and forgive him for not coming to his rescue.

Estel had slept restlessly the night before, feeling guilty that the entire truth of the situation had not been revealed despite the fact that they had both escaped punishment. He also had a nagging feeling that Legolas' injuries needed more treatment than what they had been given. He had argued with his friend before bed last night, pleading that he be allowed to once more look at the wound and treat it. Legolas had refused him though, stating that he was 'fine as usual' and requesting that the 'pesky human leave him in peace for a while.'

The young human had also wondered why they needed to hide the fact that they were injured in the first place, since everyone obviously knew they had battled the wargs.

Legolas had replied that the matter would be more serious if the elder elves discovered they were injured. "They would not be so swift in dismissing punishment if they knew we had been injured in the battle," the young elf had warned firmly. "It is only because Hir Elrond thought us safe and unharmed that he was so willing to give us a reprieve. Besides, Estel, if they knew the battle was worse than what they thought, they would insist on more answers, answers I do not want them to know, my friend."

"Why not?" Estel had demanded. "I do not mind them finding out. I am not so lacking in honor that I cannot take the consequences for my mistakes."

Legolas had frowned then, his fair features filling with anguish. "I know that, mellon nin, but I do not wish to see you punished any further. You were already injured in the battle yourself, and you saved my life. Heroism does not deserve punishment."

Seeing the anguish in the young elf's eyes, Estel had reluctantly allowed the matter to drop. He was never able to fully resist the soulful eyes when they showed such anguish and worry. He wished Legolas had given him such a look in the woods the day before when they were choosing which path to take; then he might have been more likely to choose the west path!

Now he could only sit and hope that Elrond would not discover the truth of the matter—for his friend's sake most of all.

Elrond made his way to Legolas' chambers at a rapid pace. Arriving at the closed door, he knocked lightly and then entered without waiting for a response. Seeing no sign of life in the sitting area, he walked over to the closed door leading to the bed chambers, repeating the 'knock and enter' process, grateful that the door was unlocked. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob when he saw the young elf in question still in apparent sleep on the large bed near the window. The covers pulled up to his neck, the young wood elf's blonde hair was splayed out on the pillow and his head was turned away from the elven Lord. The experienced healer immediately detected a sense of wrongness with the situation, though; not least of all the fact that Legolas was always an early riser, and never failed to be on time to breakfast or any morning event.

He made his way over to the bed, reaching out a hand to place his palm against the pale cheek facing him. He winced to feel the heat radiating from the fair skin, and he gently turned the wood elf's face around to see closed eyes in the too-pale features. "Ai," he groaned softly, "what trouble have you earned yourself this time, young one?"

Elrond tried to wake Legolas to ask him what was wrong, but he was unable to do so, indicating that the young elf was indeed unconscious instead of simply sleeping as the healer had first thought. He did an initial exam of the youth, pulling the covers down to his waist and unfastening the loose sleep tunic, gasping in shock when he saw the bloodied bandages wrapped around the elfling's torso. His face paled when, as he carefully unwrapped the bandages, he saw the enflamed and jagged cuts and holes from the warg's teeth, along with a couple of badly broken ribs.

Elrond went into swift action at the sight of the now-badly-infected wound, retrieving his healing supplies from his office and treating the young elf with his superior skills. In the middle of his healing work, Glorfindel walked into the young elf's bed chambers, not even bothering to knock. The elder elf knew that the long amount of time his friend was taking boded ill for the young wood elf, be it a fearsome lecture or some type of sickness, and he felt no qualms in interrupting either. His own face blanched when he saw the disturbing injuries on the young elf's chest, and he quickly stepped in to assist his friend with treating them.

When they had done everything they could do for the moment, the two elder elves sat back in chairs beside the bed and exchanged grim looks. "I cannot comprehend why either of them felt it necessary to hide such a thing!" Glorfindel exclaimed, anger flashing in his eyes at the young elf's precarious situation. The wound was badly infected and the youth had yet to regain consciousness, caught in the throes of a dangerously high fever.

"I do not know," Elrond said with darkened features, "but I believe it is time to glean the entire truth from Estel, and I do hope he will choose the right path this time instead of hiding important matters from us!"

Glorfindel felt a rush of sympathy for the young human boy, but he knew that it was more important than ever that they find out exactly what happened on the path. The fact that the young wood elf felt the need to hide such a thing did not bode well. Legolas needed to be able to trust the adults in his life in order to heal properly.

Estel stood with head lowered in the sitting room of Legolas' chambers. Elrond had requested one of the guards to fetch the young human and bring him there, and the boy listened now with a worried heart as his father explained his friend's precarious state of health. "Now, Estel…I need you to tell me exactly what happened in the woods… and I will not allow any omission on your part."

Estel lifted grief-filled eyes to meet the stern ones of his father. Certain now that they had made a mistake in hiding the matter (all of the matter including the injuries) from the elders, he blurted out everything that had happened, starting with their first argument at the juncture of the paths and ending with Legolas thinking his human friend would be punished if they dared to disclose their injuries. It was a disheartened elven Lord that carefully checked over the cuts on Estel's arm and just as carefully treated them—all without a word of response to Estel's story.

Elrond and Glorfindel then had a long talk with the boy on the values of a wood elf's sensitivity to nature and their infallible sense of direction. "Remember, Estel," Elrond added, "the men of the human race have a tendency to want to forge their own paths when it comes to directions, and they have never been known to take being given directions in a graceful way. I hope the lesson learned here is that it is far better to accept some directions in life—even when given by someone you think is younger than you—than to deal with the consequences of choosing the wrong path." He embraced his young son, whose eyes were filled with tears of remorse.

"I-I realize that now, Ada, and I promise I will always heed Legolas' directions better from now on…" Elrond smiled gently, wishing in his heart that this would prove true but knowing all too well the stubbornness of men. He sent the young human on his way after allowing him to visit his friend.

Legolas awoke several hours later after the astute healer had managed to lower his fever and safely fight off the infection. After making sure the young elf was coherent and had drunk some medicinal tea and water, both elven Lords had a long discussion with the young elf on the necessity of trusting the adult elves in his life. "Never, _never_ hide injuries from us, elfling!" Elrond said firmly, his tone ominous enough to scare even the mightiest of warriors and causing the poor, sickly elf to shrink back subconsciously.

"Aye, child," Glorfindel added. "Even if admitting something gains a punishment, it is surely better than certain death from infected injuries. Besides, I think you must surely know that we never punish those who are truthful to us."

"Frankly," stated the healer with hurt in his eyes, "I am saddened that you thought I would punish Estel if you admitted the truth. I would not punish _either_ of you for being injured, penneth, and I wish you had trusted us enough to come to us."

Anguish filled the young elf's eyes. "Nay, my Lords! I am sorry! Saes, goheno nin! It was not my intent to imply I did not trust you. I just did not wish to get Estel into any more trouble. Nor did I wish you to think less of him simply because he chose the wrong path."

Elrond laid a kind hand on the thin arm underneath the blankets. "I do not think less of anyone for making a mistake, young one. To err is only human _and_ elven, and you are both young. I just hope you both will realize the next time one of you errs that there is no harm in admitting it, for we care for you deeply."

Legolas' face broke into a shy grin as he relaxed and accepted the elder elves' caring. Elrond smiled back at him, unable to resist the beautiful innocence of the young face. "Estel has promised me that he will forevermore heed your advice when it comes to directions," he stated stoically, as he watched Legolas' eyes open wide in first surprise, then relief.

"And I promise, Hir Nin, that I will not hide my injuries anymore." The young elf said as he clasped the elder elf's arm and Glorfindel's hand that was resting on top of the covers beside him.

The two elder elves exchanged a glance filled with secret humor as they settled the young elf in to rest again. Things were quickly returning to normal in the Last Homely House, but who could say how long it would last?

" _We should leave now."_

" _No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."_

" _It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near…I can feel it."_

The battle with the orcs was furious and swift, and more than once Aragorn recalled the long-ago promise he had given his father, wishing he had taken the time to listen to his friend earlier.

Much later… _"We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left."_ Aragorn led the remaining members of the fellowship along the path that the army of orcs had taken. Later, as they camped for a few short hours of the night… "Legolas, what ails you? You do not seem as swift as usual, my friend."

"I am fine, Estel," the fair elf stated, getting up to father more firewood and effectively dismissing the human's concerns. It was the next day as they set a fast pace back on the trail to recover the two hobbits that the young elf collapsed from a poisoned wound, forcing Aragorn to spend a day in worry over his injured friend as he worked to heal his friend. And so, the pattern repeated itself many decades later, though I am sure there were many moments in between where the two friends conveniently forgot their promises!

Elvish Translations:

Adar: father

Ada: dad/daddy

Penneth: little one, or young one

Goheno Nin: forgive me

Mellon Nin: my friend

Hir Nin: my Lord

Hir: Lord

Saes: please

Quotes at the end in italics were taken from The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Rings movie.


End file.
